Everything Happens For A Reason
by berryfinntastic
Summary: Future-Fic, A/U: Twenty five year old Rachel St. James thought she had the perfect life, and to the outside eye she does. But dig beneath the surface and you will see the underlying scars that are hidden within the walls and defences. Will anyone be able to help her?
1. Chapter 1

**Everything Happens For a Reason: Chapter 1**

* * *

**Hey, so this is my very first fanfiction so I'm sorry if it's not very good. Any advice/tips you may have for me would be greatly appreciated.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any of the characters in this story, (except for Ava).**

* * *

**Rachel POV**

They say that everything happens for a reason, so if someone could explain to me the reason why my life has turned out this way then please do.

I suppose I should explain.

My name is Rachel Barbra St. James, I'm twenty five years old and I live in New York City. Sounds normal enough right? Now to an outsider, it seems like I have a great life, a perfect life even. But for those individuals who take a closer look, those that dig deep inside to my very core and take the time to knock down the hard walls that I have securely caged myself within, will merely see a young girl, a young girl screaming out in desperation to be released from the gloomy prison she has been so harshly forced into.

I guess I'm not making much sense. Well to really unravel the truth, we need to start at the beginning: sophomore year of high school. The year I met the love of my life and future husband; Jesse St. James. For me and Jesse, it was a love of Broadway and growing up in New York City that brought us together. It just seemed so natural; we were both striving to accomplish the same goals in life, both craving the spotlight.

Skip forward to senior year and Jesse and I were undeniably in love. We rarely argued, spent every minute possible together and just thoroughly enjoyed each other's company. Choosing which colleges to apply to was easy, as we both had a clear vision of where we wanted to further our learning: NYADA. The New York Academy of the Dramatic Arts. It's a very prestigious school, only accepting twenty applicants a year, so naturally we were both extremely apprehensive. Of course we applied to a few back up schools such as Juilliard and NYU, but none of them offered music and drama programs which we thought challenged us, which would allow us to grow as performers, so we both really had our hopes set on NYADA. Finally, after weeks of anticipation, the letters we so desperately coveted arrived. And thankfully it was good news. We were both accepted and in that moment, nothing else mattered. I was going to one of the top schools for musical theatre and the love of my life was coming with me.

In our freshman year of college, Jesse asked me to marry him and I of course said yes without a moment's hesitation. We stayed engaged for a year and then got married in our sophomore year with Santana and Brittany, my best friends since freshman year of high school, as my bridesmaids. The ceremony was divine, my dress was dazzling, my dad's (yes dads plural) walked me down the aisle and everyone I love was there to share the incredible day with me. What more could I have asked for?

We continued through college as husband and wife and in junior year I met Kurt Hummel with whom I immediately bonded. He's basically the male version of me except with, according to him, an exceptionally better sense of fashion. People constantly joke that we would be the perfect match if I wasn't with Jesse and he was well... straight. Kurt didn't grow up in New York like Jesse, Santana, Brittany and I did, he's from a small town called Lima, Ohio but has always had big city dreams. Dreams that small town living just can't fulfill.

Jesse and I both graduated at the top of our class and after graduation we began the tedious process of auditioning, subjecting ourselves to relentless negativity and rejection until finally, we both caught a break. Jesse snagged the role of Fiyero in the musical _Wicked _and I got cast in the role of Maria in _West Side Story_. The _female lead! _Our dreams were actually coming true. The fact that it was my first role and I was able to land the lead just made it all the more satisfactory.

It wasn't easy, however. Rehearsals were grueling and long, I sung until my voice was raw and danced until my feet were blistered but I was having the time of my life. I mean here I was, twenty two years old and performing in such an iconic musical. Who would have thought?

Opening night came and went, the theatre was sold out and the reviews were faultless. I only spent a short time in the role of Maria, I would have stayed longer but I fell pregnant six months into the show. Obviously Jesse was ecstatic, we both were. We'd talked about having a family one day, of course we thought it would have been much further in the future but nevertheless, we couldn't have been happier. During my pregnancy, Jesse waited on me hand and foot; he literally wouldn't let me do anything. I couldn't even go to the bathroom without him following me. As annoying as it was, I couldn't deny the fact that I found myself swooning at his chivalry and kindness. He attended every scan, held my hair during the morning sickness and went out on late night runs to satisfy my cravings. He was simply the perfect husband. When I went into labor Jesse was there by my side, whispering words of reassurance into my ear and keeping his hand securely around mine, even though I'm sure the death grip I was holding onto him with was quickly cutting off circulation. Finally after a lot of screaming and profanities, most of them aimed at Jesse, Ava Marie St. James was welcomed to the world weighing six pounds five ounces.

Jesse and I were in love with Ava from the moment we set eyes on her, she was just beautiful. She had my big, deep brown eyes and full lips, and Jesse's nose and light brown hair; the perfect mix of the two of us. Both Jesse's parents and mine came to the hospital and were instantly smitten with their new granddaughter and I just knew that she would be spoilt rotten. Santana and Brittany arrived at the hospital armed with gifts and immediately started cooing and fussing over their "niece." Kurt came to the hospital loaded with designer clothes for Ava because apparently it's never too early to learn the difference between Gucci and Chanel; his words not mine. I love Kurt, I really do, but every now and then I get the urge to shove one of those fancy, silk handkerchiefs, that he insists on carrying around at _all_ times, down his throat. But of course I would never tell him this.

Life was better than I thought it could be; I had an incredible husband, the best of friends, amazing parents and a beautiful daughter who was at the centre of my whole universe.

After six months of being a stay at home Mom, I decided to start attending auditions again. I soon landed another role on Broadway, a dream role. I, Rachel Barbra St. James, was cast as Fanny Brice in the revival of _Funny Girl_, the role that my _idol_, Barbra Streisand, made famous. I couldn't believe my luck. I also managed to set up my co-star Blaine with Kurt and they hit it off instantly. In fact they're still together now.

After that we pretty much got into a daily routine; we'd wake up, eat breakfast, drop Ava off at whoever was watching her for the day, usually my dad's, and then go to work. Jesse's run as Fiyero had ended a month previously; however he had quickly found a replacement role as Melchior in the musical _Spring Awakening_. I would normally finish rehearsals before Jesse, go to pick up Ava and spend some much needed time with my daughter.

Things were great, or at least I thought they were. Whilst I would turn down offers of going out after rehearsals in order to spend time with Ava, Jesse was the complete opposite. He went out almost every night with his co-stars and would come home at two am drunk, and smelling of cheap alcohol and cigarettes. Now I'm not an unreasonable person. I could understand him going out once in a while and having a few drinks with his friends sure, but _every_ night is just completely unacceptable. Especially when he had a wife and a daughter at home who just wanted to spend some time with him. After three continuous weeks of this happening, where Jesse would stay out later and later each time, I had had enough. I decided that I would wait up and as soon as he stepped foot in the door, I would demand that he start organizing his priorities, that he put me and most importantly Ava first and start being around more. And that is exactly what I did.

However things don't always turn out like you plan. You see, I thought that as soon as I made him realize how neglected Ava and I were feeling, he'd apologize, vow to spend more time with us and that would be that. But what should have been a night of realization soon turned into the night which forever got me trapped in a dark, downward spiral. I did confront Jesse, relaying to him the speech I had planned out however his reaction was not what I expected and honestly it shocked me to my core. As soon as I finished explaining myself, Jesse, who at this time was completely drunk, lost it. He stalked towards me and pushed me into the wall, holding me in place with his arm, and proceeded to call me names and yell at me. I believe his exact words were "you ungrateful, whiny little bitch." At this point I was shell-shocked. I mean in our seven years together he had never once yelled at me let alone called me names. If we ever had a problem, we would sit down and talk about it in a rationalized and calm manner. I don't know, maybe I was just naive.

It's the events after that truly left me quaking in fear. He pulled his hand back and slapped me across the face. My hand immediately flew to my reddening cheek, my jaw was slack and tears were streaming down my face. Jesse jumped back as though he had received an electric shock and his face turned deathly pale. We both stood there, staring at each other for what felt like hours, until Jesse finally broke the contact and in a mad dash, stormed out of the house. As soon as the door of the apartment slammed, I sunk to the floor, sobs wracking my body. All I could think was how? How could he do that to me? After my sobs eventually subsided, I dragged myself to bed and somehow managed to fall into a deep slumber.

The next morning I woke up to the smell of pancakes wafting into my bedroom. After forcing myself out of bed, I slowly walked into the kitchen to find Jesse slaving away at the stove. I made my presence known but was unable to look him in the eye. He explained that he had taken Ava to his parent's house and got us both the day off work so we could have the time to discuss the events of the previous night. As soon as he saw the bright red mark on my cheek, he made his way over, causing me to tense involuntarily, dropped down to his knees and wrapped his strong arms around my body. I immediately flinched at the contact but was soon drawn to the fact that Jesse was sobbing into my stomach, whispering that he was so, so sorry and he'd made a huge mistake. Once his tears had halted; he rose, grabbed my face in his calloused hands and looked me straight in the eyes. He swore it would never happen again, begged for my forgiveness and well… I gave it him. I mean everyone makes mistakes. Besides, the huge smile and passionate kiss he gave me afterwards was definitely enough to convince me that he meant every word. I did however tell him he needed to quit drinking and he hastily agreed.

A few weeks passed and everything was once again perfect. Jesse was an amazing husband to me, a doting dad to our precocious one year old daughter and he'd spent every spare minute with the two of us. Opening night came for _Funny Girl_ and the show was flawless. My family and friends were all in attendance and by the end they were in floods of tears, though Santana would deny it profusely. In celebration of the success of opening night, the cast decided to go out and of course I was invited. I politely declined in favor of spending time with my family however they wouldn't take no for an answer. So I figured a couple of hours couldn't hurt. I quickly explained my plans to Jesse, told him what time I would be home, kissed him and our daughter goodbye and proceeded to get changed.

It was a fantastic night. We danced, talked, hung out and just overall had a great time. I stayed away from the drink opting for water instead, I mean I asked Jesse not to drink and I would not be a hypocrite, plus alcohol wreaks havoc on the vocal chords. However I was having so much fun, that I forgot to keep track of the time. I glanced at my phone and blanched when I realized how late it actually was. I found that I had several voicemails from Jesse, each one more frantic from the last, asking where I was and if I was okay and I immediately felt terrible. I quickly said goodbye to everyone, got a cab and made my way home.

As I approached my apartment, I made a mental note to be as quiet as possible as to not awaken the sleeping bodies inside. I unlocked the door, hung up my coat and tip-toed down the hallway. However before I actually reached the bedroom, the living room light flickered on and there sat Jesse, a grim expression upon his face. I instantly started to apologize for being late, explaining how time just got away from me. Jesse got up, slowly approached me, his piercing blue orbs glacial and menacing, a sense of dread slowly washing over me. He steadily reached out his arm and backhanded me across the face. The stinging sensation was imminent, the tears already welling in my eyes, my body trembling and my lower lip quivering.

A flashback from the night he first lashed out at me flooded my senses however this time was different; this time he didn't stop and this time he was completely sober. He shoved me roughly into the wall, my head making contact with the surface so hard I literally saw stars. He punched me in the stomach; I could already feel the bruises forming, and grabbing me roughly by the hair, pushed me onto the ground. Kicks to the ribs followed, his hard, black boots making contact over and over again. I urged to scream out in pain but I didn't want to awaken the little girl in the nearby room, so I bit my tongue and suffered in silence. He crouched down beside me, pinning my wrists above my head, his sharp nails digging into my skin. His emotionless eyes leered into me, and he bent his head so his mouth met my ear. He whispered degrading, hurtful words to me, calling me a slut and a whore, each one like a dagger to the heart.

After the brutal assault was over, he stalked back into the living room and crashed onto the couch. I can't remember how long I lay there for, but it felt like hours. I eventually managed to pull my battered and bruised body up, each movement sending sharp pains throughout my being, and made my way into the bedroom.I stood in front of the mirror, mascara streaking down my face, my cheek red and my eyes puffy and bloodshot. I lifted up my shirt to reveal my torso, wincing at the sight of the black and purple patches completely covering it. I promptly swallowed down some painkillers, got changed into a tank top and some sweats and crawled into bed. I lay there willing myself to go to sleep, but every time I gave myself to the darkness, I saw a pair of frosty blue eyes staring at me, the same pair of eyes that I used to find such love and warmth in. I fell into an uncomfortable slumber, nightmares plaguing my every thought and reminding me of the ferocious attack.

After that the assaults got more frequent and now the smallest of things could set him off; I burnt his breakfast slightly or I was a little late getting home due to traffic. It was pretty much the same thing; he would yell, beat me, and then leave me there to drown in my sorrows. I was hollow, a shell of whom I used to be, and the only thing that kept me going was Ava. I devoted myself to making sure she was happy and safe, making sure Jesse never laid a finger on her.

I never told anyone, it was a secret I hid, buried it deep within my shame. Jesse was smart, only assaulting me where it wouldn't be visible, my stomach and ribs mostly. I knew this wasn't right, that I shouldn't be putting myself or Ava through this but I just didn't know how to get out. And believe me; it wasn't for lack of trying. After a particularly vicious beating, I decided that enough was enough. I waited until Jesse left, and started to pack mine and Ava's belongings.

I almost got out, almost. I was about to leave, Ava strapped safely in her stroller, belongings in tow, when Jesse arrived home. I knew then that I wasn't getting out. My thoughts immediately went to protecting Ava, so I took her into her room, ensuring she was safe before I went out to face the monster that had taken control of my life. But he didn't beat me, no what he did this time was worse than any beating, so awful it made my blood run cold. He grabbed my wrist, pinned me against the wall and told me that if I tried to run again or I told anyone of what was happening, it wouldn't just be me that suffered; he'd make our precious little girl suffer too. Protective instincts immediately consumed me and I knew then that I had to stay, not for me but for Ava, I wouldn't be able to live with myself if anything happened to her.

And that brings me to now, here I am, twenty five years old, living with a man I fear, raising our two year old daughter, fixing the injuries of the latest assault and just trying to survive. My friends and family know nothing of what happens behind closed doors and that's how it needs to stay. Not just for my safety but for theirs and Ava's too.

I often find myself wishing that someone would just take a closer look, would see the underlying scars, would save me from this hell I call my life. But they don't. All they see is the perfect family with the perfect life who are destined to get their happily ever after and who knows, maybe that's the way it should be. For now I'm trapped; trapped in a life I thought I wanted but no longer do and there's nothing I can do to get out. So I pick myself up, plaster on the biggest smile I can muster, continue through life as a shell of the person I used to be and just keep telling myself that everything happens for a reason...

* * *

**What did you think?**

**Should I continue?**

**Reviews are greatly appreciated. xoxoxo**


	2. Chapter 2

**Everything Happens For a Reason: Chapter 2**

* * *

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or the characters in this story, apart from Ava. The rights go to Ryan Murphy and his team.**

* * *

**Rachel POV**

Arriving home an hour late, I prepare myself for Jesse's wrath, fully aware of the extra harsh beating that will be awaiting me because of my unpreventable tardiness. Thankfully Ava is staying with my dad's until later, so at least I don't have to worry about her getting caught in the cross-fire.

As I approach the apartment, I get out my key, take a deep breath to try and ease the tight knot that has taken up residence in my stomach and proceed to unlock the door.

Sure enough there's Jesse, in all his 5'9 glory, glaring at me darkly, those stoic eyes staring deep into my soul.

"Where the fuck were you?" He sneers in a frosty tone, a tone so foreign to the one I remember.

"I-I-I'm really sorry Jesse, traffic was an absolute nightmare, i-it won't happen again," I respond in a rush, my words mixing together in a slur of fear.

"Yeah, you're damn right it won't happen again," he retorts, slowly trailing towards me, his fist clenched at his side. "I'll make sure of it."

I automatically recognize the signs, I've seen them often enough, and know that I have to try and diffuse the situation before it gets completely out of hand.

"Please Jesse, don't. I swear I'll be on time in future, just p-please, please don't," I beg, my eyes filling with salty tears I refuse to shed.

He is now circling me, entrapping me, like a lion entraps its prey. My body is shaking, trembling with fear, my heart beating to its own rhythm, my face sickly pale and I know; I know what is going to happen.

Sure enough he lashes out, punching me ferociously in the stomach. I double over in agony, my teeth clenched and my arms clutching my bruised abdomen. I feel an intense, sharp pain hit the back of my head causing me to fall harshly to the ground, the world spinning dizzily around me. My vision is foggy, my surroundings distorted, everything in the background molding together to form one giant, blurry image. I can briefly make out Jesse's hazy figure pacing in front of me, his form rigid and tense. I close my eyes, willing the pain to go away, wishing for a small miracle to come and save me from the fiery hell I'm trapped in. As soon as I re-open them, I'm met with the penetrating, stony stare of my attacker, his eyes boring deep into mine.

He's saying something to me, whispering into my ear however the piercing ringing in my head makes it impossible to understand what he's saying. I'm able to decipher some words; whoring around, slut, bitch, but to be honest they all just sort of run together.

He straddles me, his body pressing down on mine, his hands with a grip on my wrists so strong it feels like they are on fire. He spits at me, a grin on his face evil enough to make the toughest of people cower. He slaps me, once, twice, three times, leaving a mark so red I feel like it's going to be permanently etched onto my face. He proceeds to punch me in the shoulder, the stomach and the ribs; anywhere that isn't noticeable.

I don't cry out, scream or wince, nothing. I won't give him the satisfaction. I just lie here, enduring my "punishment," silently praying it will be over soon.

Once he's content with the damage he's inflicted; he gets up, dusts himself off, and with a final kick to my side, strolls out of the apartment like nothing has happened.

That's when the tears start flowing. That's when I finally relinquish all of the pain I'm holding onto, all of the emotions that I'm forcing away. Uncontrollable sobs ripple throughout my body, each one coming out in a strangled gasp, my breathing labored and my heart racing.

With great difficulty, I manage to pull my achingly tired body up and drag myself to the bedroom. I glance at the clock on the bedside table and realize I only have half an hour until I need to collect Ava.

I look at myself in the mirror but don't recognize the girl staring back at me. The girl in front of me is a long way from the happy, confident person she used to be. No, now staring back at me is a robot, an empty vessel intent on getting through life, each day passing by in a blur.

I can feel the tears welling up again, but I won't cry. Not again. I've shed enough tears and now I need to put on the mask which hides my pain, shove my emotions aside and go and get my daughter.

"Pull yourself together," I mutter to myself, "your little girl is waiting for you. She's depending on you."

And that's all the motivation I need. Just the thought of Ava is enough to allow me to collect my thoughts and spur me into movement.

Pulling on a hoodie to hide the marks on my wrists and shoulders, I apply some cover up to my ever reddening cheek and make my way out of the apartment, over to the elevator and outside the complex. The New York air is cool around me, the smog of the city filling my senses and giving me a sense of comfort, a sense of home.

I quickly flag down a cab, tell the driver my father's address and off we go. I spend the twenty minute journey staring out the window, taking in the scenery of the city I love so much; the bright lights, the tall, historic buildings and the hustle and bustle of people hurriedly travelling to their destinations. It's just everything I adore.

Before I know it, we are outside my father's apartment complex. I quickly pay the driver and swiftly leave to go and collect my daughter.

I arrive at the door of the eighth floor apartment, knock and patiently wait for someone to answer. Not two seconds later, the door opens revealing my dad, Leroy, a wide grin on his face, his arms open and inviting. I gratefully accept the hug, wincing a little at the contact, before stepping into the warm and homely apartment.

"Hey dad, how was she?" I ask, even though I know she would have been nothing but angelic.

"Oh, absolutely perfect, seriously no trouble at all," he beams, his voice filled with fondness. "Anytime you want to leave her with us, please do. We love having her here."

I smile hugely at that, my dad's love being around Ava just as much as I do; in fact, they're always pushing me to stay out a little later just so they can spend extra time with her.

"Thanks dad, I may just take you up on that," I giggle, winking as I walk past him.

Laughing heartily, my dad walks off to go and get Ava. Deciding to go and wait in the living room, I find my daddy, Hiram, sitting on the couch watching some kind of Broadway documentary.

"Hey daddy, how are you?" I ask, sitting next to him on the copper colored leather couch.

"I'm pretty good sweetie, how about you?" He replies, glancing at me briefly before returning his focus back to the TV.

"Um... yeah I'm good, thank you," I lie, hoping he didn't notice the slight hesitance in my voice.

I hate lying to my parents, I really do, in fact I've always prided myself on having an open and honest relationship with the both of them, but they cannot find out the truth. They adore Jesse, he's a part of the family, and it would break their hearts if they found out what he was doing, what he was truly like. I know that they would blame themselves for it, and I will not allow them to carry that burden on their shoulders.

"So I was thinking, Rach, that you and Jesse could come over for a family dinner next Saturday. It's been ages since we've seen him and we'd love to catch up."

I froze. I have no idea what to say. If I say no then he's going to want to know why. But if I agree and Jesse won't attend, then they're going to wonder why their son-in-law doesn't want to join them for a family dinner, something that in the past he's always been eager to do. I feel a sharp pang in my heart at the thought of the wonderful man I used to know, before he was replaced with the cold-hearted animal he is today. I just need to bide some time. Enough time to think of an excuse which is both plausible and believable.

"That sounds great daddy, I'll just need to confer with Jesse. With the hectic schedule a Broadway lifestyle brings, we just never know when we're going to have time off. But rest assured, I will do my very best to ensure we can attend," I answer, trying in vain to keep the doubt from creeping into my voice.

Daddy turns to look at me with one eyebrow raised, a look of confusion and slight concern plastered on his face. "You okay, baby girl? You don't seem like yourself."

"Y-yeah. I'm just tired, long day and everything," I assure with what I hope is a convincing smile. "You know how show business is."

Daddy nods his head in agreement, turning his attention back to the documentary. I can feel my palms getting sweaty, my heart beating rapidly, blood surging throughout my veins. My dad's know me better than anyone else; they can always tell when something is wrong. They both have good hearts, the best actually. If something's going on they immediately want to help, want to try and fix it. But I won't let them. This is my mess, I can't get them involved.

Thankfully my dad walks in, Ava in her fluffy pink coat attached firmly to his hip, the little girl babbling contently to herself. I instantly feel a smile etch onto my face; it's amazing how that can happen. How that miniature person can make all my troubles go away, even if only for a short while, never ceases to astound me. Ava spots me within an instant, her face lighting up, that big toothy grin that never fails to take my breath away beaming right at me. She is the ray of light in my dark cold world, that little spark inside of me that tells me to keep living, keep breathing. Everything I go through, everything I work for, it's all for her.

She reaches out for me greedily and I immediately take her into my arms , holding her tightly and breathing in that calming scent that quells all my fears. This little girl is my savior.

"Hey sweetie, have you been a good girl for your Grandpa's?" I coo in the voice that is reserved only for her.

"Yeah Mama," she babbles back, her head nodding fervently, her fingers toying with a few strands of my hair.

I kiss her forehead, my lips lingering on her soft, olive skin, pouring all of my love for her into that one kiss. Gazing to my right, I notice that my dad's are watching, looking on in devotion, a warm smile adorning both their faces. Glancing at my watch I realize that I need to get Ava home to bed, so I proceed with my goodbyes, giving both my father's a kiss on the cheek. With Ava snuggled protectively to my chest, I make my way out onto the busy New York streets, the cold air overwhelming my senses.

I quickly hail a cab, strap Ava in safely and tell the driver my address. Ava falls asleep about five minutes into the journey, her light snores filling the air and making me giggle lightly at her innocence. I silently hoped, prayed that Jesse wouldn't be home as I was yearning for a bit of peace, a little bit of time to reflect on my thoughts and wallow in my self-pity.

The cab ride flies by, my thoughts invading every fiber of my being, demanding my attention. Before I know it, I am outside my apartment complex, the warmth of my bed calling me, enticing me. I hurriedly pay the driver and gently lift the sleeping girl out of the car, being extra careful not to jostle her.

I catch the elevator up to the fifth floor, the whirring of the mechanism calming my inner turmoil. I linger outside the door, sending up a silent prayer that Jesse won't be home, just waiting to unveil another attack. I unlock the door and gingerly step inside, slowly taking in my surroundings. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding; Jesse's not home.

I take Ava to her room, removing her coat and changing her into the pajamas with the little gold stars on them. Lowering the side bars, I place the little girl gently into the bed, tucking her in securely and leaving a tender kiss on her forehead.

"Goodnight my angel," I murmur softly, slowly backing out of the room, flicking the light off on the way out.

I travel into the kitchen, grab myself a glass of water and make my way to the bedroom. I scan the familiar room, fond memories flashing through my mind. Memories of happier times, times where Jesse and I would lay in bed, reminiscing on the past, of times where we would discuss how our day went, each of us reflecting on the highs and lows.

I look over to the bed where we would confirm our love for each other, our bodies molding together in a dance that was so familiar, so natural to us before we slipped into a deep slumber, his strong arms wrapped tightly around me, making me feel safe and loved.

I let out a sigh of despair; we'll never have memories like that again. Now the loving, gentle man that I used to know and loved deeply is gone, and in his place is a monster, an entity that is soulless, dead inside. A creature that is so cold it can inflict pain on someone without an ounce of remorse.

I quickly push all thoughts of Jesse out of my head, instead focusing on the inviting bed, calling me into its depths, so I can fall into a much needed slumber. I pull off my clothing, wincing as the material makes contact with my battered and torn skin. I look at myself in the mirror; I'm a vision of black and purple mess, the marks running together to form one giant bruise. I pull on a black tank top and matching shorts and crawl into bed, my aching body relishing in the soothing feeling the cold sheets offer.

As I close my eyes, I find myself wondering when Jesse will be home, wondering whether I will have the whole night to sleep soundly or if I will, as I have so many times before, be disturbed by my intoxicated husband. Either way I'm going to close my eyes and drift off into what I hope is a sleep filled with dreams of a better life for me and my daughter, dreams filled with a hero to pull me from the abyss I call existence, that allow me to escape from the reality that is my life. I mean that is the whole reason for dreaming, right?

* * *

**Thoughts?**

**Hit the review button! xoxoxoxo**


	3. Chapter 3

**Everything Happens For a Reason: Chapter 3**

* * *

**Disclaimer: Again, I sadly do not own Glee or the characters in this story. You have Ryan Murphy to thank for them.**

* * *

**Rachel POV**

Prying my eyes open, I wince as I adjust to the light shining brightly through the blinds, bathing the room in a warm glow. I look at the clock on the bedside table and quickly realize that I've overslept and only have an hour and a half to get myself and Ava ready to meet Santana and Brittany. Today is the day of our monthly tradition. We get coffee at the cafe down the street and then spend a couple of hours shopping.

I climb out of bed and strain my ears, listening for any signs that Ava is awake. After being met by nothing but silence, I walk into the bathroom and turn on the shower. Glancing at myself in the mirror I realize that the redness in my cheek is no longer noticeable however the bruising on the rest of my body is still as present as it was last night.

I hop into the shower, hissing as the heat of the water meets my battered body, and proceed to wash away the remains of yesterday. I bet you'd expect a Broadway star to sing at the top of her lungs in the shower right? Not me. I like the silence, it's comforting, appeasing. I find that I actually do my best thinking in the shower.

After spending a good thirty minutes contemplating my life, I turn off the water and proceed to dry myself. Wrapping the towel around my body, I venture into the bedroom to find something to wear. Choosing something to wear is always a hard decision for a girl, but it's especially difficult when you have to find something that is appropriate for the scorching heat outside but still covers the prominent bruises that cover your body. After a lot of thought and deliberation, I decide on a pair of dark blue skinny jeans partnered with a black v-neck shirt and black ankle boots.

After deeming myself ready, I go to wake up Ava. Quietly making my way into her room, I linger over her bed for a couple of seconds just cherishing the site of her curled up in a ball, sucking her thumb. It's these little moments that I live for, these moments where I can actually visualize a better life for the two of us, a happier one. It just all seems so perfect. After relishing in the moment, I lean over the side of the bed and gently awaken the sleeping girl.

"Come on Ava Bug, rise and shine."

With a whine and a pout that is just too adorable for words, she slowly opens her eyes, a small smile creeping onto her face.

"Hey, there's my little angel," I whisper softly, lifting her up and cuddling her to me. She grabs a fistful of my shirt in one hand, clinging tightly, and uses the other hand to rub her eyes, sweeping away the remnants of sleep. Her head rests lazily against my shoulder, her body heaving soft, quiet sighs. "You ready for our girlie day out?"

She nods her head sleepily, looking up at me with love shining in those big chestnut eyes. Placing a warm kiss to her head, I take her to get ready for the day ahead.

Dressing her in a light pink sundress decorated with hearts and paired with white Mary Janes, I put her soft, brown hair into pigtails and journey into the hallway.

Glancing around the apartment, I notice that it is in immaculate condition, nothing out of place, which means Jesse hadn't arrived back at any point last night. Breathing a huge sigh of relief, I look at the clock, panicking slightly when I realize I'm a few minutes late meeting Santana and Brittany. Hurriedly strapping Ava in her stroller, we leave the apartment, lock the door and make our way out onto the busy New York streets.

* * *

**Brittany POV**

We, me and Santana that is, have been sitting, waiting for Rachel for 10 minutes and that like... never happens. She's always here first, always. In fact she's always early. Even in school she was always the first one to class. I remember I once asked her why she liked being early so much.

"_Just remember Britt, the early bird catches the worm,"_ was her reply, although I never really understood what worms and birds had to do with being early. I still don't. But the point is, she's never, ever late.

So I think you can understand why I'm a little anxious and why my leg won't stop bouncing up and down like I'm some impatient, bored toddler.

"Sanny, Rach is never late. Should we be worried? I mean maybe she got lost or the aliens got her." Santana looks up from the magazine she's reading, a brow arched in confusion. "'Cause you know I heard in the news about alien abductions and how they take people up to their spaceships and probe them and stuff. I don't want that happening to Rachie. What would happen to Ava? Would they take her too?"

Santana puts the magazine down, turning to face me. "Britt Britt calm down, I'm sure she'll walk through the door any second with the little munchkin right there with her." I slightly relax; although worry is still surging throughout my body. "She probably just overslept."

Alarm bells ring immediately. "But Rach never oversleeps; I mean she's like a well oiled machine. She gets up at the same time _everyday_ and does her morning routine in the exact same order and in the exact same way."

Truth is I've been a bit worried about Rachel for a while now. It's just something in her eyes, something that is so strangely un-Rachel and it's kind of freaking me out. I'm pretty good at reading people; it makes up for the fact that I'm not very book smart. Santana, on the other hand, prefers to ignore everything to do with emotions, saying all that "shit" is for pansies and that fists do all the expressing you need. And that is a direct quote.

However sometimes when we're together and it's just the two of us (did I mention we're together?) she shows a softer side, a side she will strongly deny having and will probably beat you up for even mentioning, but it's there. Another thing about Santana, the thing that I love most about her, even though it does get her into trouble _a lot_, is that she is fiercely protective of those she cares about, namely me, Rach and Ava. Seriously, cross Santana, and she will show you first hand why her nickname is "Satan."

"Well maybe she was up late getting "freaky" with St. Jerkoff." Yeah to Santana, offensive nicknames are a term of endearment, an initiation of sorts. "I mean the girls tiny, but she's gotta have a lot of stamina to get through all those dance rehearsals. She could probably go for hours," she adds with a smirk.

Just as I was about to reply, the cafe door opens and in walks Rachel with Ava in her stroller, babbling happily to herself. A smile of relief briefly finds its way onto my face but soon disappears when I look into her eyes. There is that look again, almost like she's trying so hard to hide something, fear maybe or sadness? Maybe a little bit of both? She makes her way over to us, a smile plastered on her face. That's another thing I noticed, Rachel has a thousand-watt smile, one that could outshine the sun any day, except the smile I'm seeing now doesn't outshine the sun, in fact, it doesn't even reach her eyes. I guess I could just be reading way too much into it, I mean she may just be tired. After all, she is a Broadway actress married to a Broadway actor, both of whom work ridiculous hours, and they're raising a two year old. I can only imagine how exhausting it must be.

"Sup diva, little diva," Santana greets, smiling at the two of them.

"Hey guys, I am so sorry I'm late. I sort of overslept."

Santana gives me a knowing look, a sly smirk painting her face. "Yeah well that's what happens when you're up late at night, getting all hot and sweaty with your man candy."

Rachel looks at me, then Santana, confusion evident on her face which quickly transforms into a look of understanding. "W-what? N-no Santana, I really just overslept." I frown, Rachel only ever stutters if she's nervous or anxious about something, and that's a very rare occurrence. "Work has just been unbelievably exhausting lately," she adds, a blush tinting her cheeks.

"Auntie Britt Britt." My attention is soon drawn to the pouting little two year old fighting against her restraints to be released. "Out!"

I giggle at her demanding tone; she really is like her mother, and make quick work of getting her out of the stroller. "There you go pretty girl," I coo, sitting her on my knee. "That's better, huh?"

The only reply I get is an eager nod and a murmur of incoherent agreement. I glance to my right and notice Santana grinning at us fondly, reaching over to brush a soft curl out of Ava's face.

"You guys ordered yet?"

"Nope, we've been waiting for you to get your sweet ass here," Santana replies in her usual brash tone.

"Yeah, I totally thought you got abducted by aliens or something," I reveal, noticing the way Rachel seems to be entranced with her hands. That's another thing that worries me. The way she seems to keep her head down all the time, a long way from the girl that boasted about always taking pride in yourself and walking confidently with your head held high. "You okay, Rach?"

Rachel snaps her head up so fast I'm surprised she didn't get whiplash. "Yeah, just tired," she responds firmly but I swear I could hear a flicker of defensiveness in her tone. "So, usual order?"

And just like that, all signs of emotion are gone, and in its place is the old Rachel, the confident, happy Rachel. "Yeah, sounds great. Thanks Rach," I say cheerily whilst Santana just nods in affirmation. She offers us both a beaming smile but I'm not buying it for a minute. I'm just going to have to keep an eye on her I suppose.

As Rachel leaves to get our order, I return my attention back to the little girl sitting contently in my lap. She's gurgling animatedly away to Santana who is nodding in acknowledgment and replying back when possible which believe me, is not often. For two years of age, the girl sure knows how to talk. Another trait she gets from her mother.

After several moments of Santana and I listening to the chatter from Ava, Rachel returns to our table with our order; a soy latte for herself, a double espresso for Santana, hot chocolate for me and apple juice for Ava.

We sit, talking back and forth with Ava adding her own contributions, (usually completely unrelated), sipping our drinks and just basking in the comfortableness of our friendship. It's not that often we get to hang out, I mean other than occasionally at each other's apartment and our monthly shopping trips, we all lead pretty demanding lives. Santana's a lawyer for a big law firm here in New York, a job where her sharp tongue and quick wit really help, but the hours are impossible. I'm a dancer and I teach master classes to children aged 7 -12. I love it. It's something I'm really good at. And then there's Rach, who as you already know leads a pretty fulfilled life. So finding them moments where we're all free is nearly impossible.

"So how's Jesse?" I'm brought out of my little thought bubble by Santana. "Ain't seen him in a while."

It was subtle, but I didn't miss how Rachel flinched at Jesse's name. How strange. Maybe she and Jesse had a fight? "H-he's good," she stutters, burying her nose in her coffee cup. "He's just been busy with the musical and everything."

Santana nods, drinking down the remains of her coffee. Once we're all finished, we pack everything away and get ready for the mall. Rachel comes over and takes Ava off my lap to put her into her stroller. As she lifts her up, I notice her wince, her face contorting into a mask of pain. I immediately take Ava from her, concern taking over my features.

Santana seems to notice too. "You okay? I mean I know you're not superwoman and you're like tiny, but the munchkin barely weighs anything."

"I'm f-fine; I think I just pulled a muscle or something. No big deal." If it was no big deal, she wouldn't have gritted her teeth whilst saying that.

Santana doesn't seem totally convinced either. "Uh-huh, if you're sure."

And just like that the subject is dropped, well for now, although I can tell by the look on Santana's face that she's starting to realize something's wrong too. But for the time being, we'll play along; pretend everything's okay until we figure out what's going on.

I make quick work of strapping Ava into her stroller before handing it and some cash to Rachel, who then hurries off to pay the bill. "So you noticed that too?"I whisper to Santana, my brow furrowing.

She nods slightly. "Yeah, you know I think you're right, something's going on with her. We just gotta figure out what it is."

"So what do we do?"

"Just play it cool, keep an eye on her. Maybe she'll tell us in her own time?" She offers with a shrug although I'm not convinced.

We step outside just as Rachel catches up with us and we make our way down the street, pushing through the hustle and bustle of the New York City life.

We get to the Mall, and just spend a couple of hours walking around the various shops and boutiques, trying things on and making the occasional purchase. Ava fell asleep about an hour into the trip, I think the combination of boredom and the hot New York weather finally got to her.

After finishing our shopping and eating lunch at the food court, we say our goodbyes with the promise to hang out again soon, and make our way to our respective homes. Walking back with Santana (we share a quaint little apartment in the middle of Manhattan) I can't help but worry about Rachel. She was quiet pretty much all day, only really speaking when spoken too. Never thought I'd miss the days where Rachel would talk a mile a minute and you could barely keep up and get a word in edge ways, but I do. It just seems so foreign that Rachel is so withdrawn and introverted when she used to be so loud and lively. I just wish I knew what was wrong so I could help; I hate seeing those I care about sad. I guess I'll just have to wait and see, maybe Santana was right, maybe she'll tell us when she's ready. I suppose only time will tell.

* * *

**Rachel POV**

I make it back to the apartment, Ava still completely dead to the world. As soon as I open the door I hear the sound of shuffling in the kitchen meaning Jesse's home. I close my eyes, despair sweeping over my body. I can't handle more injuries on top of the ones I've already got. I'm pretty sure I've already made Santana and Brittany suspicious if my behavior today was anything to go by. I just pray they don't have any clue on what exactly is going on.

I slowly open my eyes only to be met by the steely stare of my husband, his complexion pale and his eyes bloodshot. Yeah, I think it's pretty safe to say he was out all night drinking.

"Where ya been?"

I flinch at the volume of his tone, checking to ensure it didn't wake up Ava. "Just out with Santana and Brittany, you know on our monthly shopping trip," I answer, nervously chewing on my bottom lip.

He just grunts in response, his eyes never shifting contact with mine. "I'll just put Ava to bed then."

Motherly instincts kick in, a protective fire taking over the entire of my being. "No its fine, I can do it," I say defiantly.

He straightens up and makes his way over. I tense in fear of another beating coming on. "No I insist. After all, she's my daughter too," he retorts, forcefully yanking my hand off the stroller and going to remove the straps from around Ava.

He lifts her out, whispering softly to her and placing kisses on her forehead before making his way into her bedroom. Okay, I don't get it. How can he go from ignoring her existence one minute to being the "doting" dad the next? It's like he's two completely different people, well around Ava anyway. I suppose it doesn't really matter as long as she's safe.

My train of thought is interrupted when he comes back into the hallway, his heavy black boots clunking against the wooden floor. He marches straight passed me, his shoulder brushing mine. He grips the handle of the apartment door, throwing one last glare in my direction before storming out and slamming the door behind him.

And then I'm left in silence again, the only sound being the echo of the door slam reverberating around the apartment. At least I got away without a beating. I slowly make my way to Ava's room, checking to see if the loud noise awoke her. Thankfully it didn't.

I traipse into the living room, dropping onto the couch sloppily, exhaustion creeping into my body. A little nap can't hurt right? I close my eyes, willing the realms of dreamland to take me over, lull me into a safe, protective place. Except... it never comes. I can't get my mind to shut off.

Thoughts of last night fill me, the look on Jesse's face as he attacks me, his heart shattering words forever embedded in my mind. I just don't understand how the sweet, gentle, thoughtful guy I loved and vowed to spend the rest of my life with, turned into a vicious, cold-hearted monster.

I think back to earlier today, the look on Brittany and Santana's face when they saw me in pain. They know something's up, but I can't get them involved. I just can't. It's too risky. He could hurt them, and I can't - no I won't - let that happen. So from now on, I'll be the picture of happiness, the bubbly, confident person I used to be. I am an actress after all. And what use are my acting skills if I can't convince people everything's fine?

My thoughts travel to Ava, to my beautiful princess. The thought of something happening to her makes me feel physically sick. I'll use everything inside of me to protect her, to keep her safe. I'd give my life for her without a moment's hesitance. As long as she's here, my life has meaning, has hope. And that's what I'm so desperately clinging on to, that glimmer inside of me that tells me it's not all over, that there is a chance to get out. I just hope the hold I have on it is strong enough.

I finally feel the confines of sleep taking over me, bringing me into a safe haven. I can practically taste the blackness surrounding me, luring me in. I swear I'm almost there when an annoying buzz comes from the side of me, bringing me crashing back to reality. The buzzing sound, I figure out, is coming from my cellphone on the coffee table, alerting me to a new message. I open my eyes, groaning as I sit up, and reach across for it. Looking at the screen I see a new message from Kurt.

"_Hey diva, where are you? I've been waiting for you to get here for 15 minutes!"_

I crinkle my brow in confusion, why do I need to be at Kurt's? Did we make plans? Well obviously we did otherwise he wouldn't be waiting for me. I rack my brains, trying to remember why exactly I need to be at Kurt's when it dawns on me. He needs me to help him clean out the spare room at his apartment; something about how his step-brother is moving to the city but is unable to find an apartment at the moment.

I type a quick reply to Kurt, telling him I'll be there as soon as I can find a sitter for Ava. After getting an instant reply, I make a quick call to my dads, asking if one of them could come over to watch Ava. Thankfully my daddy can.

Daddy arrives twenty minutes later, offering me a cheery smile and a warm hug. After exchanging pleasantries, I hastily explain everything, how Ava's still asleep and I didn't want to wake her and how I totally forgot my plans with Kurt.

Daddy just chuckles softly to himself. "Honestly Rach, you'd forget your head if it wasn't screwed on." He shakes his head. "Go help Kurt, everything will be fine here."

And that's all I really need to here. With a grateful smile and a kiss to the cheek, I'm out of the apartment and on the bustling streets of New York quickly flagging down a cab. Hastily telling the driver my destination, we head off, the journey seeming to only take minutes as I'm outside Kurt's apartment complex before I know it. I make my way up to the third floor apartment, dreading the fact that I'm going to have to push through my pain, my injuries in order to help Kurt.

I barely have time to knock before the door is yanked open and I'm being pulled into the pristine apartment.

"Thank Gucci you're _finally _here," he shrieks, placing emphasis on the word "finally." "I thought I was going to have to move all that stuff myself. And I just got a manicure."

I giggle lightly at his dramatics; honestly sometimes he is _way _too similar to me. "Sorry Kurt, I completely forgot." I decide that honesty is the best policy. "Besides I don't see why you couldn't get Blaine to help you. He's got more muscle than the two of us combined."

"Because my dear Rachel, Blaine's parents are in town for the weekend, and he promised them a set tour of the musical. Now come on, we need to get moving."

"Fine, when is your step-brother arriving?"

"5:30," he replies, glancing at his watch.

Wait what? "So you're telling me we have to get the whole of the spare room emptied in three and a half hours?" He nods. "Right, well then we better get to it."

After over three hours of emptying the contents of the room, a lot of sweat and one batch of tears from Kurt because he chipped a nail (yeah, I rolled my eyes too) we were finally finished.

"Thank God that's done," Kurt says breathing a sigh of relief, leaning back into the couch. "That much sweat is going to have a negative impact on my skin."

I suppress an eye roll, because really? "Kurt, I'm sure your skin will come out of this looking as flawless as it always does." That seems to placate him. "Just out of curiosity, why is your step-brother coming to New York anyway?"

"He just got drafted to the New York Giants. He's their new quarterback. So Finn and his friend Puck, who got drafted alongside him, now have to relocate here."

"So it's the two of them but only your brother is staying here?"

"Yep, Puck's moving into a one bedroom apartment with his girlfriend Quinn, while Finn moves in with me. He says it's cause he couldn't find an apartment he likes but really I think he's scared.

"Scared?"

"Well yeah, New York is different from Ohio. For one thing it's bigger, much bigger. I think he's intimidated by it." I nod in understanding.

"Hey, who are you calling scared and intimidated?" Our attention is immediately drawn to the door and my heart starts beating rapidly at the sight in front of me. Leaning against the doorframe is a 6'3, brown haired, cinnamon eyed guy with a breathtakingly cute lopsided smile.

His eyes make contact with mine, seeming to stare straight into them, gazing into my soul. It's a look that causes my heart to skip a beat and my pulse to race. For some reason, I'm unable to tear my eyes away, it's like I just can't help but be drawn to him.

Oh boy, things just got a whole lot more interesting around here.

* * *

**Reviews are like air to me! xoxoxoxo**


	4. Chapter 4

**Everything Happens For a Reason: Chapter 4**

* * *

**A big thanks to my awesome beta, Kelly (BellaRose55). **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or any of the characters mentioned in this story. **

* * *

**Finn POV**

I turn onto the busy streets of New York, the heavy traffic pulling me to a stop. I scan the area, allowing myself to take in the sights of the place that will, from now on, be my home. I'm surrounded by a sea of sky-high buildings that are seemingly endless. All around me are people; people hurrying down the sidewalks, oblivious to everything and everyone around them, pushing their way through the crowds, each determined to get to their destination. The traffic goes on for miles. Numerous horns are honking, the impatience of the drivers manifesting to create a loud symphony of noise.

Yeah, I am _definitely_ not in Ohio anymore.

I'm from Lima, which is a small town about two hours away from Cincinnati. Back in Lima, everybody knows everybody and nothing really ever happens. I mean the biggest thing that I can recall happening is when Mrs. Jenkins took too much of her glaucoma medication rendering her in a state of confusion. She ended up walking around the local supermarket in nothing but her pajamas, claiming her husband had been kidnapped by government agents and that her house had been "bugged." Yeah, I wasn't exaggerating when I said not a lot happens.

Growing up in Lima was cool - for the most part - but people don't tend to get _out_. Instead, they spend the rest of their lives stuck in a dead end job with three kids that they didn't even want. So if I said that I was completely sad about leaving Lima behind, I'd be branded a liar.

However, life in Lima wasn't so bad. In fact, if it wasn't for the small town, I probably wouldn't be where I am today. My high school career was pretty much every guys dream. I was popular, the quarterback of the football team, and idolized by all of the underclassmen. I loved every second of it. I continued playing football throughout high school and was spotted by a recruiter in my senior year. He took interest in me and my best friend, Puck, and granted us both a full football scholarship to Ohio State University.

During my last game at OSU, the Ohio State football coach was there looking for some guys to sign. He approached me and Puck after the game and after talking to him for a while, he decided to sign us both; me as the quarterback and Puck as the linebacker. To say I was excited would be a _colossal_ understatement. We were introduced to the rest of the team and started practice right away. The other guys on the team were cool, however they had a few more years experience than we did, so we knew right away that we had to give them our respect.

Training was intense, the plays difficult to get my head around but I powered through. Before I knew it, we were playing our first game against the Kansas Jayhawks, a real life, big time game that was televised and everything. This was my moment, my time to shine. I was going to show everyone that I was not a Lima loser, but that I was living my dream. And I did just that. We were tied at 13-13 and there were twenty seconds left on the clock. The ball was in my hands and I knew that I just had to go for it. I threw the ball, putting the full force of my arm into it, and watched. Time seemed to halt, the ball moving at an agonizingly slow pace, until finally, _finally, _it landed in the arms of our wide receiver.

The crowd went wild, the screams completely invading my thoughts. We won! I scored the winning touchdown! I was numb; adrenaline was pumping throughout my body at a rapid pace. I felt myself being lifted into the air, before being set down on a couple of the players' shoulders. They were cheering, yelling words of praise and giving me pats on the back. It was incredible. The feeling, the excitement, my life at that moment was perfect.

I continued playing games for the next two years, some of them we won, others we didn't. Either way, I was living the dream. A couple of months ago the annual draft was held and it was announced that both Puck and I had been drafted to the New York Giants. It was a bittersweet moment. I mean I was sad leaving all my teammates, my _friends,_ behind but on the other hand, I was going to be playing for such an amazing, iconic team. And Puck being drafted with me was just the icing on the cake. Life is definitely sweet.

The sound of a blaring horn pulls me out of my thoughts and I realize that traffic is once again moving. I look through my rearview mirror only to see the guy in the car behind me giving me the finger. Geez, I knew New Yorkers had a reputation for being rude and abrasive, but wow! This takes things to a _whole_ new level.

I turn right onto 54th street, remembering the address Kurt told me. Before I know it, I'm outside his apartment complex, my black Honda Civic screeching to a stop. I get out of the car quickly, the urge to stretch my legs spurring me into movement. Driving for nearly nine hours when you're as tall as me is definitely not advisable. I feel like my legs have been trapped in a vice grip for days on end.

Grabbing my luggage out of the car, I make my way inside the apartment building. Stepping into the elevator I push the button for the third floor, patiently waiting for the_ ding_. The elevator opens to reveal a long, narrow hallway, doors adorning both sides. I trek down the hallway, glancing at each door until I come to the one I'm searching for. Apartment 312.

I'm about to knock when I hear voices coming from inside, a high-pitched voice which I easily recognize as Kurt's and a soft feminine one. I'm about to resume knocking when something catches my attention.

"He just got drafted to the New York Giants." Wait, is he talking about me? "He's their new quarterback. So Finn and his friend Puck, who got drafted alongside him, now have to relocate here."

Well I guess that answers that question. I decide to try the door handle, grinning when it opens. Pushing the door open slightly, I decide to listen in. Yeah I know it's not polite to eavesdrop but come on, you can't blame a guy for being curious.

Peering round the edge of the door, I see Kurt sitting primly on the couch, his legs crossed, and sat by him is the occupant of the unidentified voice. She's sitting with her back to me so I can only see a curtain of long, shiny brown hair; however I'm quickly drawn to the fact that her voice sounds so pure and angelic.

"So it's the two of them but only your brother is staying here?"

"Yep, Puck's moving into a one bedroom apartment with his girlfriend Quinn, while Finn moves in with me. He says it's cause he couldn't find an apartment he likes but really I think he's scared."

WHAT!? I am not scared!

"Scared?"

"Well yeah, New York is different from Ohio. For one thing it's bigger, much bigger. I think he's intimidated by it."

Deciding that I've heard enough, I open the door fully, intent on stopping this before Kurt can tarnish my reputation further. "Hey, who are you calling scared and intimidated?"

Their heads turn abruptly, their eyes wide and mouths slightly open. Recognition crosses Kurt's face, his shocked expression giving way to a more annoyed one. I don't have time to dwell on that though, as I am immediately drawn to the other person on the couch who's scrutinizing me under a pretty intense gaze.

She's gorgeous. Her long, brown hair cascades past her shoulders, framing her slender face and her clothes hug her body in just the right way, accentuating her curves. I notice how small she is, giving her a sense of fragility but making her seemingly adorable too. Her big, chocolate eyes are mesmerizing and I can feel myself getting lost in them. Our gazes connect, locking us into a deep stare, and I feel as if I'm slowly being pulled into a hypnotizing trance, the rest of the world gradually fading away.

"Hello, Finn? Finn? For God's sake, FINN!"

I'm pulled out of my reverie by the sound of Kurt's shrill voice. "What? Oh, hey Kurt."

"Hey Kurt?" Okay, he looks mad. "I've been trying to get your attention for _two_ minutes, and all you have to say is hey Kurt?! You really need to work on focusing your attention on something other than girls!"

"Okay, dude relax. I'm sorry alright?" I blush at being caught and I notice the brunette duck her head, a shy smile painting her features. Really? Could she get any cuter?

Kurt rolls his eyes and motions to the girl standing next to him. "Anyway, Finn this Rachel St James, Rachel, this is my idiot of a step brother, Finn Hudson."

Rachel waves before stretching out her hand to shake mine. "It's very nice to meet you Finn," she says, a small smile plastered on her face.

"You too," I reply bashfully. Damn, gotta stay cool.

"My brother, always the charmer," Kurt scoffs, causing Rachel to retract her hand, her eyes downcast on the floor.

My eyes follow hers, but quickly come to a stop as soon as they spot a hint of cleavage peeking out of her shirt. Her boobs definitely aren't the biggest, but they still look pretty awesome. I take the opportunity to look over the rest of her body, my tongue inadvertently darting out to lick my lips at the sight of her legs. Man, those things go on for miles. Her head shoots back up and I quickly avert my gaze, trying my best to pretend that I wasn't just ogling her body.

"Well I best be getting home. It was lovely meeting you Finn."

"Wait." She freezes, hesitantly turning back around. "Kurt and I were going to go out to dinner with our friends, Puck and Quinn, as a sort of welcome to New York. Would you like to join us?"

She opens her mouth to protest but Kurt quickly cuts her off. "Yes, you should join us. I would love for you to get to know everyone better."

She nibbles on her lower lip and damn it if it's not the cutest thing I've ever seen. "I don't know, I really should be getting home."

"Come on, Rach, you owe yourself a night out," Kurt pleads.

"It'll be fun. I'd really like to get to know you better." She blushes furiously at this, her cheeks tingeing a bright pink, and I can see her defenses faltering. "Plus, I'd love your input on all the best places to go in the city.

Finally, her resolve fades. "Okay… sure. You're right, a night out sounds like just what I need. Let me run home and change and Kurt can text me the details."

"Awesome," I say, a huge grin on my face. "I guess I'll see you later."

She nods her head in confirmation, before giving Kurt a hug and me a small wave. I wave back, sending her my "famous" crooked grin. The ladies _love _it. With that, she turns and leaves the apartment and yeah, I totally just checked out her ass. And let me tell you, it is _perfect._ I know I shouldn't objectify girls or judge them solely on looks, and believe me, I don't. For me to be attracted to a girl they have to at least be interesting. When I was at OSU, I went on a date with a girl from one of my classes and sure she was super hot, you know blonde hair, tall, skinny, but man was she dumb. She spent the entire date discussing how important the Kardashians "contribution" to society was and how we live in a much better world because of them. It was the worst date I have _ever_ been on. And I've been on a lot! So yeah, a girl definitely has to have personality for me to be interested; and it doesn't hurt if they look good too.

It takes me a while to realize that I'm just staring at the door that Rachel walked out of, and once again Kurt is frantically trying to get my attention. "Finn, seriously what are you staring at?"

I look at him sheepishly. "Um…"

Kurt's eyes widen; his mouth opening in shock. "No! Oh my God! You were totally checking out Rachel weren't you?" I don't get time to answer as he carries on his rant. "Do you seriously have to check out every girl you see? I don't appreciate you ogling my best friend Finn. And anyway, you'd be wasting your time. She's unavailable."

Ah, well that's a disappointment. But then again, I shouldn't be surprised. Of course she's not available.

"I wasn't checking her out!" I lie unconvincingly. Kurt gives me a knowing look and I decide that I need to change the subject, fast. "So, when do I get to meet this guy you have been gushing about for_ months_?"

His face instantly lights up, his eyes sparkling. I may sound like a total pansy for saying this but I love seeing him so happy. If anyone deserves it, it's him. Especially after all the crap he was put through in High School. "Tonight. His parents are in town for the weekend so he's been spending time with them. But he'll be back soon."

"He lives with you?"

Kurt nods. "Yeah, he has done for a few months now." A shy smile creeps onto his face. "He truly is amazing."

"Well, that's great. I'm really glad you're happy," I say sincerely, and his eyes well up. He leans in and gives me the biggest hug he can muster, despite the vast difference in our sizes. After a few seconds, he pulls away, swiping at his eyes to stop the tears that threaten to leak out. "I'm going to go unpack my things."

"Need any help?"

"Nah, I can handle it. I didn't bring much anyways."

"Okay, well in that case I'm going to get ready for dinner tonight."

"Dude, dinner isn't for another two hours. Do you really need that much time to get ready?"

"Just because you don't have an appreciation for my skin regime and can throw on any old thing and be ready in less than ten minutes, doesn't mean we all can. I, unlike you, put a lot of work into my appearance. Do you have any idea how long it takes to look _this_ good?" Kurt rants, his hands planted firmly on his hips. I bite back a sarcastic response, I have a feeling he wasn't expecting me to answer anyway. "_Hours_. It is somewhat of a chore, but I do believe that the finished product is well worth the extra effort. So, if we're done here…" he trails off; gesturing to the door behind me which I'm guessing is my room.

He stalks off into what I'm assuming is the bathroom so I decide to start the tedious chore of unpacking. Picking up my luggage, I enter the room Kurt pointed out and start putting away my belongings.

Once I'm finished, I take a moment to really look around the room. It's a fairly good size with a big window that overlooks the city. There's a huge king-sized bed, perfect for my 6'3 frame, leaning against the wall and a dresser adjacent to it. The walls are white and _thankfully _not pink like I feared they would be and the carpet is a navy blue. Looking out of the window, I can see the New York City skyline and I now understand why people make a big fuss over New York. It is pretty amazing. Don't get me wrong, I'm always going to be a country boy at heart but I could definitely get used to the Big Apple.

Going back out into the living room, I notice a man with black hair sitting on the couch watching TV. I'm guessing this is Blaine. Either that or the thieves around here are really bold.

Clearing my throat to get his attention, his head shoots up in alarm, a mask of panic etched onto his face. He reaches out for the lamp on the side table, never once taking his eyes off me, and holds it out in front of him in a protective stance, his form rigid. "Look man, I-I'm not afraid to use this thing," he stutters out, clearly not knowing who I am.

I raise my hands in defense. "Whoa dude; just put the lamp down. I'm Finn, Kurt's step-brother?" Surely Kurt must have told him I'm staying?

"Oh, right. Of course," he says, placing the lamp back onto the table. "Sorry about that. You never can be too careful in New York."

"So your plan was to take me out with a lamp?"

"Well it works in the movies," he mumbles, his eyes downcast. "I'm Blaine."

He holds out his hand to shake and I reciprocate the gesture. "Yeah I know; Kurt only talks about you _all the time_."

He blushes, his hand going to rub the back of his neck nervously. "Well it's nice to meet you."

"Yeah, same here. So… are you coming to dinner with me and Kurt?" I ask, trying to make small talk.

"Of course. Who else is going?"

"Just me, Kurt, my friends, Puck and Quinn, and Rachel."

"You've met Rachel?" I nod my head in confirmation. "She was actually the one who introduced me to Kurt. I pretty much owe her big time for that."

"That's awesome," I reply, my interest suddenly piqued. "How did you meet Rachel?"

"_Funny Girl_." I just raise an eyebrow, not having a clue what that meant. Who the hell is "Funny Girl?" Is he calling _me_ that? He seems to notice my confusion and carries on. "Rachel was cast as Fanny Brice in the revival _of Funny Girl_ on Broadway, and I play opposite her as Nick."

Oh, well that makes more sense. "Broadway huh? That's pretty impressive. I can't say that I've ever seen a show but I know enough from living with Kurt. And I know that Broadway only accepts the best."

"Yep, and Rachel definitely is _the_ best."

Before I get a chance to respond, Kurt comes into the room, his eyes lighting up at the sight of his boyfriend. "Are you guys ready to go… are you seriously going to wear _that_, Finn?" He questions, motioning to my clothes.

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing," I retort, slightly offended by Kurt's remarks.

"You look like you've just finished work on the farm. No offense."

I go to protest but quickly stop myself realizing Kurt will, in the end, get his way. It's quicker to just agree with him. "Fine, I'll go change," I huff, stomping back to my room.

Changing into a blue button down and black jeans, I deem myself ready and go out to get Kurt's approval.

"See, that wasn't so hard now, was it?"

I roll my eyes, not having the energy to argue back. "Let's just go."

"Are we meeting Puck and Quinn at the restaurant?" Kurt asks, locking the door of the apartment.

"Yeah, is Rachel meeting us there or does she need a ride?"

"She text me before, she's gonna meet us there. She says she's still getting ready."

Leaving the apartment complex and piling into my car, we head on off to the restaurant. The whole time that I'm driving, I just can't seem to get Rachel off my mind, which is crazy seeing as I only met her a couple of hours ago and our meeting was brief. But there's just something about her that seems special, something that draws me too her. Talking to her earlier, I kind of felt this magnetic pull, like even though we barely know each other, we were destined to meet. The thought of getting to know her better during dinner brings a smile to my face.

Pulling up to the curb outside of Virgil's BBQ, we get out of the car and make our way inside. We're quickly shown to our seats where Puck and Quinn are already sat waiting.

"Hey guys, sorry we're late," I apologize, taking my seat at the table.

"Its fine, we haven't been here long," Quinn says, shrugging her shoulders. "Hey Kurt, long time no see."

"Yeah, it's been far too long," Kurt replies, going over to Quinn and embracing her in a hug and then awkwardly fist bumping Puck.

Quinn turns her attention to Blaine. "So, you must be Kurt's new beau. We've heard _a lot_ about you," Quinn smirks, causing both Blaine and Kurt to shift uncomfortably.

"Yeah, Kurt's told me a lot about you guys too. So much in fact I feel as if I already know you."

We all immerse in small talk, the conversation flowing easily between the five of us. In my peripheral, I notice Rachel walking through the door and man, does she look smoking.

She's wearing a white summer dress that stops just above her knees and a pale blue sweater. Her hair is arranged in soft curls which hang loosely on her shoulders and on her feet are a pair of white heels that make her legs look like they go on for miles. If I thought her legs looked good in jeans, it is _nothing_ compared to how they look now.

I motion her over to the table, the eagerness to speak to her again consuming me. She waves shyly to everyone before taking her seat, which conveniently is next to mine. Kurt immediately introduces her to Puck and Quinn and they quickly exchange pleasantries before absorbing themselves back into conversation.

I lean over to whisper in her ear. "You look really pretty." Her cheeks flush pink, a small smile adorning her features and I can't help but think just how beautiful she looks when she smiles.

The waiter comes over to take our orders, and soon we're all enjoying our meals, talking animatedly amongst ourselves. I glance over to Rachel only to notice her deep in thought and pushing her food lazily around her plate. I have to admit I was slightly surprised when she only ordered a salad but once she told me that she was a vegan, I mentally scolded myself for not ensuring the restaurant had more variety and made note of this for future reference. I am slightly concerned however, when I realize just how little Rachel has actually eaten. But then again, she wasn't exactly planning on eating out tonight, so maybe she had a big lunch.

"So Rachel, how long have you lived in New York?" Quinn asks, finishing off the remains of her BBQ shrimp.

"Oh, my whole life. My dad's moved here a year before I was born so it's all I've ever known."

"Dad's?" Puck questions, his mouth full of chicken.

Rachel shoots him a disgusted look before continuing. "Yeah, I have two gay dads. They put an ad in the local newspaper looking for a surrogate and interviewed the candidates themselves. After several interviews, they found someone they really liked."

Puck just nods, turning his attention back to his chicken.

"Kurt tells us you and Blaine are on Broadway?" Rachel nods, her face instantly lighting up. "What's that like?"

"It's phenomenal. The feeling of performing in front of a crowd is just indescribable. When I'm on stage it's like the whole world just goes away, and it's just me in this little bubble and nothing else matters. It's my second home."

Blaine shakes his head in agreement. "Yeah, you guys should totally come check out the show. It's awesome if I do say so myself."

"Yeah, we'll definitely do that," I say taking another bite of my steak.

"Hey Rach, who's watching Ava tonight." I look at Kurt, my eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Who's Ava?

"My dad is. I told him that he didn't have to, that I wouldn't mind cancelling but he insisted, said that I don't get out enough."

"Who's Ava?" I inquire, wiping my mouth with a napkin.

"My daughter," she says simply.

Well I did not expect that.

"Do you have pictures?" Quinn asks eagerly. Rachel murmurs in confirmation, digging her phone out from her purse and showing it to Quinn. "Oh, she is gorgeous. How old is she?"

"She turned two a couple of months ago," Rachel smiles, complete adoration decorating her face. She turns the phone towards me, and I can't help but grin at the little girl beaming at the camera. There is no doubt that she is Rachel's daughter, she is the spitting image of her.

"She's beautiful," I say sincerely, although I can't help feeling a pang of disappointment. If she has a daughter, then that means she's obviously very involved with someone.

I should not be feeling like this. I have only just met her.

"Are you married?" Puck asks. My ears perk up at this, very interested to find out the answer.

"Yeah," she answers shortly, her gaze averting to the wall behind Puck.

I have a feeling it's not something she wants to talk about; especially with people she met only a couple of hours ago so I quickly decide to change the subject. "Well I think I'm gonna head off, it's been a long day and I'm pretty tired from the drive up here." I stand up from my chair, turning my attention to Kurt and Blaine. "Are you guys coming with me?"

"No, I think we're gonna stay a little longer, catch up and everything," Kurt says, tossing me the keys to the apartment. "We'll just get a ride with Puck and Quinn, if that's alright with you two?"

"Yeah, no worries dude."

"I should be going too. I really need to get back to Ava," Rachel says, standing up and grabbing her purse.

"How about I give you a ride?" I offer, jumping at the chance to get to spend more time with her.

"Oh no, I couldn't possibly ask you to do that. I'll just get a cab."

"Okay, first, you didn't ask, I offered. And second, I'm not taking no for an answer."

She sighs in defeat. "Are you sure it's not too much trouble?"

"Not at all," I assure, handing some money to Kurt for the bill.

"Alright then. Thank you," she smiles gratefully, tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear.

After saying our goodbyes to the others, and a promise from Rachel to show Quinn all the best places to shop, we exit the restaurant, the cool New York air assaulting our senses.

Hopping into my car, Rachel tells me her address and we pull away from the curb, turning left at the intersection. I turn the radio on, the music playing lowly in the background.

"Thanks for this. The ride I mean."

"No worries, couldn't very well let you take a cab by yourself at this time of night now could I?"

She glares at me in mock offence, a smile threatening the corners of her mouth. "I'll have you know that as a strong, empowered female in the twenty first century, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

I can't help but snort at that. "Come on! Now I have no doubt that you can be extremely feisty when you want to be, but face it. You're tiny. There is no way you could defend yourself against some big, beefy guy."

"Okay, I am offended by that notion. Just because I'm small doesn't mean I'm not tough."

"Right, so if some 6'0 guy came and attacked you, you'd be able to get away unharmed?" I smirk, raising an eyebrow. Her demeanor instantly changes, a flash of panic crossing her features. I frown, concern seeping over me. "Did I say something wrong?"

"No, not at all. I'm just tired." She smiles tightly, shifting her gaze to the window.

I nod, turning my attention back onto the road, extremely aware of the thick tension that has now inhabited the car. The rest of the journey is spent in silence, with only the radio humming away in the background. Rachel doesn't remove her attention away from the window, seemingly lost in her own world. I keep my eyes trained on the road, casting the occasional glance to my right just to make sure she's okay.

Sooner than I'd like, I pull up outside Rachel's apartment complex. "Here ya go, home sweet home."

"Thanks for the ride, Finn, I really appreciate it. I owe you big time."

"Stop thanking me, it really was no big deal. And you don't owe me anything," I reassure gently.

"Okay, I guess I'll see you around then?"

"Yeah, definitely. Maybe you could show me the sights sometime?"

"Yeah, maybe," she agrees, but I can't help but feel a little disheartened at her less than enthusiastic tone. "Goodbye, Finn."

"Bye," I wave, watching her walk up the steps to the apartment building.

Once I'm sure she's safely inside, I pull away, my thoughts consumed with nothing but her. There's something that just seems a little off with her, something not quite right. I know I've only known her for a few short hours but I can just somehow tell. Is that strange? Maybe I'm just jumping to conclusions, allowing my attraction to her cloud my judgment and concoct unlikely scenarios in my head. But whatever the case, I'm going to find out one way or another.

* * *

**Just so you know, I know nothing about American football, or sports in general, so if there are any glaringly obvious mistakes, then feel free to let me know.**

**Review! xoxoxoxo**


	5. Chapter 5

**Everything Happens For a Reason: Chapter 5**

* * *

**Warning: This chapter contains strong language and some semblance of sexual abuse, therefore I have changed the rating to an M. If you are easily offended by such things then I urge you to either skip over it or read with caution.**

**Disclaimer: This line depresses me. No, I do not own Glee or any of the characters in this story.**

* * *

**Rachel POV**

I slam the apartment door behind me, my forehead gently leaning against it, allowing the cool, stained wood to soothe my flushed skin. My heart is hammering in my chest, my breath coming out in shallow gasps. I try and stifle the fear flowing through my body at Finn's words. Why do I keep letting my guard down in front of others? I didn't spend two years encasing my heart within steel barriers just to let _some guy_ break them down. Even if the guy is really handsome and charming... and I need to stop this thought process. Right now. If Jesse knew that I had dinner with someone he'd never met before, regardless if there were others there or not, and that he gave me a ride home... I shudder to think what he would do to me.

"About time you got home." My whole body tenses at the sound of Jesse's harsh voice. I definitely wasn't expecting him to be here. "Imagine my surprise when I arrived home early, only to find your dad here instead of you. So... where were you? Out whoring around like the slut that you are?"

Slowly turning around, I come face to face with my unstable husband, an expression of pure rage painted on his face. "N-no. I was out with Kurt and Blaine. We had dinner with his step-brother and a couple of his old friends. T-they've just moved here."

His glare is hard, staring deep inside of me, almost as if he's trying to read my inner thoughts, pry the truth out from within. He advances towards me, looking almost predatory, and I brace myself for the wrath he is surely about to unleash. He places his hands on the door, one on either side of my head, caging me within his frame and leaving me with no way to escape. He leans down so that his mouth meets my ear, the heat of his breath making me twitch with fear.

"Really? Well you know that I don't like you hanging out with people I've never met. You can't be trusted not to screw around with them," he says, his voice dangerously low. "But, I know a way you can make it up to me."

I gulp harshly at his words, my body freezing at the sight of the sadistic grin on his face. I have no idea what he's thinking, but it can't be anything good. I just pray it's not another beating.

I gasp as his hands slowly start to make their way down my body, tickling the skin of my neck before coming to a stop at the side of my breasts.

"You've been so bad lately that I've had no choice but to punish you. I hate to do it, I really, really do, but it's what you deserve. It's the only way you're going to learn that I'm in charge and you play by _my_ rules. But tonight, I'm not going to punish you." I breathe a sigh of relief, feeling some semblance of calm overtake me. "No, tonight, you're going to make _me _feel better."

My eyes widen at his implications, my body frozen with shock. "W-what exactly… d-do you want me to do?"

He wears a salacious smirk on his face, his tongue licking his lips hungrily. "Well let's just say that it involves satisfying a very _specific _need." He wiggles his eyebrows, his eyes looking down at a now very obvious bulge in his pants.

My stomach churns, his intentions for me rendering clear in the hazy fog of my mind, my heartbeat speeding up erratically. Pulling me by the hand, he leads me into the bedroom, a lustful glint twinkling in his eyes. With a soft _click_, he closes the door behind him, immediately reaching for his belt, unbuckling it before yanking his pants and boxers down.

I close my eyes, willing myself to a place that takes me away from all of this, takes me away from what I have to do.

This isn't the first time he's made me do this, but it's been a while. He never makes me go any further though, and for that I am eternally grateful, although I've suspected for a long time now that he's been getting his "satisfaction" from somewhere - or should I say some_one -_ else. Honestly, I don't care. At least it keeps him away from me and Ava...

"Get on your fucking knees." I'm startled out of my thoughts by Jesse's rough commands, his eyes lascivious and his erection as prominent as ever. Obviously I'm not moving quickly enough for him as he grabs me by the hair and shoves me to the ground, the impact causing my knees to scrape along the floor. He grips my chin in his hands, forcing my eyes to connect with his, icy blue meeting chocolate. His lips curl up in a sneer, his blue hues turning dangerous. "I'm not fucking around here, Rachel. You do what I want, when I want and you do it fucking right. Now, get to it, you stupid bitch."

Kneeling up so my face meets his penis, I hesitantly grasp it in my hands, desperately trying to keep my tears at bay. I glance up only to see Jesse staring back at me, a hard mask etched on his face. Squeezing his shaft slightly, I slowly lower my mouth so my lips are firmly wrapped around the tip. With my eyes clamped shut, I move my mouth further, engulfing his entire length until it hits the back of my throat.

"Oh." Jesse lets out a low moan, his hands tangling into my brown locks, pulling on them harshly. Using my hair, he starts to move my head up and down, thrusting in and out of my mouth. He brings one of his hands down to roughly fondle my breast, squeezing it in time with his thrusts whilst his grip on my hair tightens.

"Fuck... yeah, like that. Keep sucking me like the dirty slut you are," Jesse pants out, his breathing becoming fast and ragged. "I'm the only one who gets to feel this, who gets to feel your hot, wet lips around me, fucking you in your mouth. You like this, don't you? You like feeling like a cheap whore."

The growls he's emitting are practically animalistic, each one coming out louder than the last. "Make me fucking come you slut. Make me come hard. You better fucking swallow it too."

His hand that was massaging my breast comes down to grip my wrist tightly, bruising my already frail skin. He maneuvers my hand to grab his balls, squeezing them, his hand in control of all the movements. He tugs on my hair harder, causing my head to bob faster.

"Oh... I'm gonna come... fuck... unnhh." With a final grunt, he comes, the white, sticky substance bitter inside my mouth, leaving a distinct aftertaste in the depths of my throat. He pulls his penis out, cleaning it off with a tissue from the nightstand before pulling his boxers and pants back up.

His breathing is short and labored, his eyes glossy, his expression utterly spent. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, feeling absolutely disgusted with myself. My wrist is stinging from where his sharp nails dug in, leaving little crescent shapes imprinted on my skin.

He crouches down so his eyes are level with mine, ferocity evidently shining in them. "I own you, Rachel. Your loyalty is to me and only me," he says menacingly, his face now void of emotion. "Now you know the rules. This stays between you and me. Tell anyone, and I'll have you begging for mercy. You're nothing, Rachel. Nothing."

He steadily gets up, his gaze searing me, setting my skin alight. Throwing a final glance in my direction, he stalks out of the apartment, the door slamming shut behind him.

I'm left alone. Left alone to wallow in despair, my emotions emerging in full throttle, the control I had on them unable to contain them for any longer. The tears that I've tried so hard to withhold finally spill over, making their way slowly down my cheeks, leaving behind damp, glistening trails. My stomach is restless, the reality of what I've just done hitting me, leaving me feeling dirty and weak.

Incapable of suppressing it for a moment more, I race to the bathroom, unloading the contents of my stomach into the toilet. The bile burns my throat, the acidity of it leaving me gasping for air. The tears are now streaming down my face, speeding up every time another gag escapes. Once I'm finished, I lean my face against the cold porcelain, my sweaty forehead relishing in the chill of the enamel.

Taking deep breaths to calm my pulsing heart, I pull myself up off the bathroom floor, using the sink to steady my trembling legs. Grabbing my toothbrush, I make quick work of ridding the combined taste of vomit and semen, the minty aroma refreshing the inside of my mouth.

I gaze at my reflection in the mirror, scrutinizing my flushed cheeks and bloodshot eyes.

_Who is this girl? _

_Why has she let herself fall under the control of her abusive husband?_

I scan my reflection intensely, looking for any recognition of the person I used to be, searching for a glimmer of the spark that used to shine so brightly.

I can't find it.

She's gone.

Forced away by years of turmoil and torture and I don't know if I'll ever be able to bring her back.

Heaving a heavy sigh, I exit the bathroom, quickly changing into a t-shirt and sweats, ready to jump into bed and allow myself to succumb to the lure of sleep. Pulling the comforter down, I'm interrupted by a shrill cry, alerting me to the fact that Ava is awake. Sleep forgotten, I rush to her bedroom, the sight of tears rolling down her cheeks shattering my increasingly fragile heart.

Scurrying over to her bed, I scoop her up in my arms, cocooning her to my chest. "Shh, it's okay. Mommy's here. You're okay, baby," I murmur softly, my hand running through her soft locks.

Her cries eventually start to dim, just the occasional hiccup escaping. Her fingers are tangled in my shirt, hanging on as if I'm going to fade away. I stroke her cheek tenderly, wiping away the remaining tears with my thumb. "Feeling better, sweetie?"

She nods her head sleepily, her eyes gradually drooping shut. Deciding that she's calmed down enough, I start to lower her back into her bed, pulling back in shock when her grip on my shirt tightens.

"Mama no go," she whimpers, a new layer of tears covering her eyes. I kiss her forehead gently, my hand caressing her back.

"You wanna come sleep with Mommy?" I coo, bouncing her in my arms slightly.

She nods, a tiny grin gracing her features. "Sleep wi' Mommy."

Smiling at her sheer adorableness, I carry her into my room, peeling back the cover before gently placing her under it. I tuck her in securely, leaving a soft kiss to her nose, my hand stroking her hair.

Her eyes are closed before I even turn off the light, her breathing evening out, her quiet snores filling the room, creating the most beautiful melody I will ever here. It's definitely my favorite tune. Climbing into bed beside her I lay close, her head leaning against my chest.

This moment, right here, is perfect. For the first time in ages, I actually feel calm, serene even. I wish I could freeze time, live in this moment forever. I gaze down at Ava's cherubic face, the moonlight peeking through the blinds bathing it in a warm glow, making her looking so angelic.

I stay still for a moment, just staring at her, committing every one of her beautiful features to memory, savoring the peaceful expression adorning her face.

My princess.

My angel.

My _savior._

I'll escape one day. I will. I just have to keep fighting. Not for me, but for her. I have to. She deserves better than this. Better than the life she's living now. She deserves happiness, a chance to grow up freely without fear of being harmed like I have. I just hope her innocence hasn't been damaged by the actions of her father.

Nuzzling my cheek against her head, I close my eyes, allowing myself to fall into a peaceful quiet, the realms of slumber drawing me closer and closer, until finally, the blackness dulls all my senses and sucks me into a silent oblivion.

* * *

The next morning, I'm awoken by a light giggling coming from beside me, bringing me back to the land of consciousness. Opening my eyes, the sight of Ava in my bed summons the events from the previous night, the onslaught of emotions making me feel dizzy.

"Mama, hair tickly me!" Ava shrieks, brushing my hair off her cheek.

I laugh heartily, laying a kiss on her forehead. "Sorry, baby. Did you have a nice sleep?"

She nods enthusiastically, her head bouncing up and down with vigor. "You comfy, Mommy."

I chuckle softly, my hand rising to graze her face. "Come on sweetie, let's go get ready."

After getting Ava and myself dressed, I take her into the kitchen, ready to prepare her breakfast. Setting her oatmeal in front of her, I sit beside her, patiently waiting for her to finish and trying to ignore the low rumble resounding around my belly.

I've always been one to boast the importance of a nutritious diet, ensuring that I eat three meals a day and keep myself fully hydrated. But that's not possible anymore. Not with Jesse around. He weighs me once a month and if I gain even a single pound, he berates me and then beats me. Somehow the words he yells and names he calls me hurt more than the punches that follow. That's why I have to watch what I eat and sometimes skip meals. I don't need to give him another reason to lash out. Yeah, like he needs a reason anyway.

"Mommy, I finish!" Ava squeals, gesturing to her empty bowl.

"Good girl," I praise, picking up her bowl and placing it in the sink before turning around to lift Ava out of her chair. "How about you and I go for a walk, yeah? Does that sound like fun?"

She nods her head in agreement, her hands fisted in my hair. Putting her coat on, I place her in her stroller, fastening the straps securely before grabbing my purse and leaving the apartment.

After walking for several minutes, I decide to head on over to Central Park. It's beautiful in the mornings. I love hearing the sound of the birds chirping in the trees, the light _swoosh_ of the breeze, the chatter of families out on leisurely strolls. It's magical. It's also somewhere I feel safe, where I feel Jesse can't hurt me. Not with everybody else around. He wouldn't want to risk his perfect reputation as a family man.

Pushing Ava's stroller through the park, I take it slow, basking in the rays of the sun, absorbing all of the beautiful scenery. No matter how many times I walk through here, it never fails to give me the same sense of awe, sense of amazement.

A raucous ringing snaps me out of my trance, diverting my attention from my surroundings. Using one hand to steer the stroller, I fish my phone out of my purse, noticing an unfamiliar number light up on the screen.

"Hello?" I answer, trying my hardest to guide the stroller without bumping into anyone.

"Rachel? Hey, it's Quinn. I hope you don't mind, I got your number from Kurt."

"Oh no that's fine. What's up?"

"Well last night you said you would show me all of Manhattan's hottest spots for shopping, and I was wondering if I could take you up on that."

"Oh... yeah sure. I have a show to do later today but how about tomorrow? Say one pm? I could you meet you at the mall on 33rd Street."

"That would be perfect. I can't wait. Thanks, Rachel. See you soon."

"No problem. Bye."

After hanging up the phone, I try to put it back in my purse, the task proving to be extremely difficult with only one hand. Before I have chance to fully close my purse, I collide harshly with something, the force of the impact sending me barreling to the ground.

* * *

**Finn POV**

Jogging through Central Park, I can't help but get lost in the peacefulness of it all, the surprising calm. I thought, seeing as I was in New York, that it would be noisy, cramped. But it's not. It's relaxing. I can actually see myself going for regular jogs through here.

Back when I was in high school, I hated getting up early. It was the worst thing I could have imagined. But once I was in college, football was much more competitive. Everyone wanted to be in top shape for recruiters, so I got in the habit of waking at a reasonable hour, allowing me the extra time to go running or head on down to the gym.

Running helps me clear my head, allows me to sort out my thoughts from the jumbled mess they usually become. Except this time, it's not working. And it's not football or New York distracting me. It's Rachel. I cannot get her off my mind. It seems the harder I try to focus my attention on something else, the harder the images of Rachel blast my senses. It's crazy. There's something special about her, something I've never seen in a girl before. It's captivating. Mesmerizing. I want - no I _need -_ to know more about her, need to find out the more intricate details of her life.

Shaking my head briskly, I do my best to push all thoughts of Rachel aside, instead choosing to concentrate on the sights, quickly becoming enamored with the attractions. However, I'm so enthralled in the atmosphere that I forget to pay attention to where I'm going. I'm quickly shocked back to earth when I slam into somebody, knocking them to the ground and causing me to stop in my tracks.

Mortified by my extreme clumsiness and lack of focus, I gaze down at the unfortunate victim I ran into, my embarrassment magnifying when I notice who it is. Rachel. Just as I was sweeping her from my mind, the universe decides to stick her right in front of me. Quite literally, as it seems.

It takes me a few moments to realize that I'm just staring at her splayed out form on the ground, her face flushed and her expression one of mixed annoyance and alarm. Quickly wrapping her hand in mine, I help her up, pulling her firmly to her feet. She straightens out her skirt, brushing the dust off the fabric.

"I am so sorry, Rachel. I wasn't watching where I was going, and I-I've always been a bit of a klutz and people are constantly telling me that I have two left feet a-and... I'm sorry," I ramble, the embarrassment coming back in full force, staining my face bright red.

She chuckles softly. "Finn, relax. I'm okay and it wasn't entirely your fault. My attention was otherwise engaged. I should have been paying more focus to where I was walking.

"Yeah, but you're so little and I could have seriously hurt you and God... I'm just sorry."

"Look, how about we agree to share the blame? It was both our faults, I'm sorry; you're sorry, now let's move forward."

"Okay, cool. So um... hey."

"Hi," she smiles, her blindingly white teeth on full view, those damn eyes transfixing my gaze on hers, the blood pumping heavily through my being.

"Mama, you 'kay?" A small voice comes from beside me and for the first time, I notice the stroller sitting on my left. How did I not notice that before? Now I feel even more like a douche.

"Yeah sweetheart, Mama's okay," she reassures gently, turning the stroller around to face the two of us.

That's when I first see the most precious little face staring up at me, curiosity vividly shining in her eyes. That picture last night did her no justice. She's even more adorable in person.

"Who dis?" She questions, her finger pointing at me but her eyes settled on her mother.

"This is my friend, Finn. Finn, this is Ava, my daughter whom I mentioned to you last night."

I crouch down opposite her, grasping her hand in mine, very aware of the enormous contrast in the sizes of them. "It's very nice to meet you, Ava," I say, shaking her hand gently, a friendly smile playing on my face.

She giggles shyly, hiding her face in the side of the stroller. I hear Rachel laugh from above me, the sound of it like music to my ears. "She's not normally this shy, not even around strangers. She's usually very vibrant and talkative, so much that you can barely get a word in."

"Well maybe she's just intimidated by me. I mean, I'm taller than most people, so I must seem like a giant to her." Standing back up, I face Rachel head on. "What are you doing here this early anyway? You know besides getting mowed down by a big, clumsy guy."

"Well I could ask you the same question, what are you doing here? Apart from knocking down innocent bystanders," she replies, a small smirk pulling on the corners of her mouth. When she sees my eyes narrow playfully, she continues. "I usually take Ava for early morning walks. I find it's always more peaceful at this time. What about you? I would have suspected you to stay in the comfort of your bed for as long as possible, considering the long drive up here and subsequent move."

"Yeah I wish, but I gotta stay in shape for football season. The quarterback can't exactly let his fitness go downhill. He's depended on to stay in top notch condition in order to perform to the best of his ability," I explain, rubbing the back of my neck with my hand.

"Oh yes. Kurt told me all about your football achievements. Pretty impressive, I must say." I blush slightly at the compliment, my cheeks tingeing what I fear is a slight pink. Rachel seems to notice this too. "Don't be embarrassed. I think it's admirable that you've worked so hard to accomplish all you have. It takes real dedication and strength to tackle your dreams."

"Wow, I've never heard anyone describe it quite like that. Thank you," I say sincerely, my eyes interlocking with hers, the rest of the world fading out in the background, only the sound of my rapidly beating heart disrupting the quiet. The gentle wind wafts in the background, blowing strands of hair into Rachel's brown hues. I reach out my hand to tuck the wisps of hair behind her ear, quickly retracting it when her body suddenly freezes under my touch.

"I-I have to go," Rachel quickly stutters, breaking the contact and turning to grip the handles of the stroller, before starting to walk away.

"Rachel, wait." I run up behind her, placing my hand on her shoulder. She startles, her body whipping around hastily, a mask of terror covering her face. "S-sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I was just wondering whether I could walk you out of the park."

She looks at me timidly for a second, before removing all expression from her features. "No, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to overreact. It's just New York. You never can be too careful," she assures, laughing humorlessly. "And you don't need to walk with us, I'm sure you've got better things to do with your time."

I want to object but don't, fearing that my attempts would be fruitless. "Okay. Do you really have to go?"

She nods. "I'm afraid so. I have a performance later so I need to get home to change, drop Ava off at my parents, and head on over to the theatre."

"Alright. I guess I'll see you soon then? Maybe I can come to one of your shows sometime?"

"Of course. I'm pretty certain I could get you, Puck, and Quinn front row seats. Let me discuss it with my director and I'll get back to you."

"Cool. Bye, Rachel."

"See you around, Finn."

I turn to face Ava directly. "Bye, cutie," I coo, waving at her and offering her a giant grin.

"Buh bye, Fwinn," is her response, her hand mimicking mine, the incorrect pronunciation of my name sounding so, so precious.

With a final nod, Rachel saunters away, pushing the stroller ahead of her, the wind ruffling her hair. I breathe out a huge sigh of regret, my hands running over my face. So much for getting to know her better.

* * *

**Reviews are love! xoxoxoxo**


End file.
